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Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Strix Excerpt.

This summer is going too fast! It's been another busy week and I'm nearly finished with my half of the first draft of "Claimed By Dragons". Amber and our editor have both been very patient with me while this book grew and grew. Thank you ladies it will be done this week.

Today I want to share a excerpt from "The Strix" book one in "The Bag Of Tricks" book series.

In this scene Arcona has inadvertently returned to the same occult shop she was in earlier in the day. Dame Bishop is a witch in authority who enlightens her about exactly what a Strix is.

(Dame Bishop) “Are you familiar with the
legend of the Strix?”

“No.” Arcona shook her head, noting that the
amulet was warming almost too quickly in her cool palm.

“You won’t find this myth in many books; few
know or speak of the Strix. The Strix was a compilation of all ancient Rome’s
guilty fears about the so-called barbarians they enslaved, punished, and
brought under their own roofs as domestics, lovers, and lethal entertainment.
The Strix combined fearful barbarian lore and Roman superstitions in a single
horrific creature that traveled the night as a grotesque bird of prey, sucking
the blood from innocent people and turning them against Rome.

“The Strix might start life as a worshipper of
Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft and necromancy. She could be born Roman or
Celtic and work as a healer, witch, or midwife, but somewhere along the way,
hatred and the need for revenge against the oppressor corrupted the witch’s
capacity for doing good. Rage and destruction took the place of healing acts.
Stray witches made bargains with dark forces in exchange for the power to grant
invincibility in battle to others, who in turn would walk the earth in violent
wrath.”

Arcona grimaced. “The Strix sounds absolutely
repulsive.”

“She isn’t, and by the way the Strix is always a
she. The essence of Venus imbued the Strix with the power to seduce and
sexually torment any young man she approached. She sought out strong,
battle-worthy men. Her victims were powerless to refuse. At the climax of the
sexual act, she’d drink their blood and send them into a violent rage. During
these unnatural couplings, rarely but sometimes a male, Upir Likhyi, was
created.”

Arcona was almost afraid to ask. “What’s an Upir
Likhyi?” She struggled to pronounce the unwieldy words.

“It’s an old pagan Baltic term for wicked or
foul vampire. It is a revenant, or undead soul, that seeks the thrill of blood
sport and warfare. In ancient times many were recruited to secretly serve
Mars.”

A shiver trembled up her spine. “We certainly
don’t need any more of those violent, bloodsucking sorts hanging around, that’s
for sure.” She laughed with nervous self-consciousness until she noticed Dame
Bishop’s serious face. It was apparent she did not share the dismissive
attitude.

Arcona struggled to compose herself. “I don’t mean
to sound so disrespectful, because I love mythology too. It’s had a huge
influence over human history, but myths are just a way to explain human desires
and behavior. I’m a bit puzzled that you’re talking about the Strix as if it’s
a real entity.”

Dame Bishop blanched. “It is a real entity. Make
no mistake; every myth carries a grain of truth within. There are realms
loosely tethered to this one far stranger than anything you can imagine. To say
these realms are less real than ours is to profess the Earth is flat. It is a
statement only the ignorant can speak freely.”

“I’m sorry.” Damn, she really put her foot in
it. Arcona gently lowered the amulet back into its box. “Thank you for sharing
this with me. It’s fascinating.”

She gazed at the skeletal bronze birds and
strange craftsmanship one last time. “How exactly did you come across this? A
rare artifact of this age seems like it should be safely stashed in a museum.”

“I agree.” Dame Bishop’s expression brightened.
“Some associates of mine at the Universita di Roma know my interest in such
things and were kind enough to allow me to examine the amulet.”

“I’m familiar with the University of Rome! My
ex-husband once taught there. Who are your contacts; perhaps I know them?”

“I highly doubt it.” Dame Bishop’s mouth drew
tense. “My colleagues are very private people.” Her gaze dropped toward the
amulet. “Tomorrow it’s headed to the Smithsonian in an armored car. I just
wanted to share it with one last soul before it continued on its journey to lie
locked away in some sterile vault until the curators can figure out what to do
with it.”

A heightened gleam shone in Dame Bishop’s eyes
as she lifted the amulet from the box and held it toward Arcona. “Why don’t you
try it on? Just to see what it feels like.” A sly smile crossed her lips. “This
is a bit of living history. You may never get an opportunity like this again.”

Something about the amber riveted Arcona’s
attention. The center of the amulet was translucent and glowed like a fiery
ember. Against her better judgment about carelessly handling antiquities and
possibly ill-gotten property, she reached for the leather thong and looped it
around her neck.

The amulet hung heavy and prominent atop her
breasts. Arcona glanced downward. This was a big, bold piece of ornamentation
obviously meant to immediately identify its wearer as a witch who had wandered
over to the dark side.

A loud knock pounded on the front door of the
shop.

Arcona started.

“Excuse me.” Dame Bishop pulled the curtain to
the back room aside. “Let me see who’s at the door.”

Arcona was left alone in the back room to gaze
down at the amulet and decided that in spite of the somewhat disturbing bronze
motifs it was actually very beautiful and must have made a strong impression in
its day.

The warm, subtle scent of amber resin reached
her nose. She sniffed again in disbelief, knowing there was no way this ancient
piece of fossilized amber could possibly be emitting a scent.

She inhaled the mystery fragrance, and sure
enough, the rich scent of earthy amber was filling the air. She glanced around
curious to know if there was anything near that could possibly be the source of
the aroma and saw nothing she could hold to account.

She glanced toward the curtain. What was Dame
Bishop up to? She didn’t hear anything going on in the front of the shop. All
was silent.

She turned to leave the back room, and her knees
buckled. A moment of extreme dizziness knocked her off balance and sent her
flailing toward the dusty countertop in a scrambling attempt to keep from
falling to the floor.

She blinked in shock as she doubled over the
countertop. God, it was getting warm in here. Her skin felt burning hot. She
gasped and tugged her coat away from her body, but it didn’t help.

A terrifying sensation of thousands of vicious
needle jabs prickled the tender soles of her feet and spread upward. She
struggled to kick her tall leather boots free of her feet but couldn’t. The
burning sensations licked higher up her legs. She gulped air, fighting rising
panic. Her skin felt crispy as if it were being cooked. The pain escalated
until it was unendurable. “Help!”

The curtain of the back room was thrown open,
and Dame Bishop appeared. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Arcona pulled herself upright. Suddenly nothing
was wrong, except the sleeves of her trench coat were covered in dust up to the
elbows from writhing against the countertop. The horrid burning sensation left
as swiftly as it had arrived. “Dear God, that was weird. For a moment it felt
like I was on fire.”

“Really?” Dame Bishop didn’t look the least bit
surprised.

“Really. I think this amulet is cursed. Wearing
it feels awful.”

“Cursed?” Dame Bishop balked. “I thought you
were a skeptic?”

“I’m still a skeptic, but I’m telling you there
is something unwholesome about this piece of jewelry. Perhaps it should be kept
in a sterile museum vault.”

“Hold on a minute. Don’t be so quick to judge.”
Dame Bishop wagged an admonishing finger in the air. “You were the one who was
burning. Maybe we should concentrate on that.”

“Are you implying that what just happened to me
was my fault? I put the amulet on and immediately felt like I was on fire. That
never happens to me. Does that sort of thing happen to you? It’s kind of weird.
I think I’m entitled to blame the amulet.” She half listened to herself,
cringing at the childish tone of her argument.

Arcona took told of the leather thong and tried
to yank the amulet over her head, but it tangled in her long auburn hair. She
grasped the bronze setting and tried to untangle the thong. The setting hooked
onto her sweater and clung like a bur. “Look at this thing!” She tugged at the
amulet in exasperation. “It’s like an octopus grapping me.”

“Leave it alone,” Dame Bishop said tersely.
“Don’t provoke it.”

“What?” Arcona frowned. “I
want it off.”

“It’s not coming off, at least not until it’s
ready.”

“No way.” Arcona grabbed the thong and gave it a
sharp upward yank. A hellish burning sensation reminiscent of having cooked
skin peeled from her bones racked her. “Oh my God!” she wailed.

She let go of the amulet, and the pain stopped
in an instant.

Dame Bishop’s brow creased with serious concern.

“You didn’t know this would happen, did you?”
Arcona fought a rising sense of panic. “Please take it off me. I don’t want it
near me, and I’m afraid to touch it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Dame Bishop took a cautious
step backward. “I can’t take it off you. You’re the only one who can free
yourself.”

“There must be something we can do? It hurts too
much if I try to remove it, and I can’t walk around wearing something the
Smithsonian is waiting to receive. I’m supposed to be at the airport bright and
early tomorrow morning! What can I do?”

“You’re not leaving Salem with the amulet. That
is unacceptable and cannot happen.”

Arcona huffed. “I don’t want your amulet. I’d
love to take it off and hand it back to you; please just tell me how to do it.”

“It’s not my amulet. I’m just a caretaker.” Dame
Bishop’s gaze was piercing as she spoke calmly. “You’re the only one who knows
how to break the curse. I’m not the Strix--you are.”

“Whoa, wait a minute, this is nonsense. Is this
a Halloween joke?” Arcona glanced around. “Is this being filmed? Are you having
fun jerking a tourist around? Because I’m not enjoying it. Whatever you’ve
rigged up to this amulet is causing real pain. If this is a prank, it’s getting
abusive.”

Dame Bishop gently shook her head. “I’m not
doing anything to exploit or harm you; I swear it. It hurts because you’re in
the process of remembering your most regretful deeds. Take note that you came
to me. I saw you were in need, but I let you go, and you quickly returned to
the shop of your own volition.”

“I was lost.”

“Yes, you were, but a clear path has opened to
you, and I heartily encourage you to use this brief opportunity on the eve of
All Souls’ Day to walk the path and set your wrong deeds right.”

Arcona’s temper and deepest fears flared. “I
don’t know what you’re talking about. What is it exactly that you think I’ve
done? I know I’m not perfect, but honestly my misdeeds in this life have been
petty. I have no idea how you would know any of this, but if you’re talking
about the potato I shoved in Principal Ross’s tailpipe in middle school, I
apologized profusely for that. I had no idea a potato could do that kind of
damage to a car, a plank fence, or a plate-glass window.”

Dame Bishop closed her eyes and clasped her
hands in front of her face, almost as if she were absorbed in prayer. “I’m not
talking about projectile potatoes, and I’m not referring to this life. I’m
talking about the deeds of the past that have come full circle.”

A sickening and sad feeling gripped her. “I just
want to leave. Please tell me how to safely get this amulet back in the box so
I can go back to my hotel,” she pleaded.

“I can’t tell you how to free yourself from the
amulet because I don’t know the secrets of the Strix.”

Hearing Dame Bishop pronounce her a Strix caused
a wave of melancholy to wash over her. At that moment Arcona wanted to go home
so badly, though her little bungalow near the beach was practically empty and
there was nothing waiting for her there, not even a pet. “How do I know if any
of this is true? I’m not sure I believe in reincarnation, let alone any of the
rest of this wild tale.”

“Everything in the universe recycles itself. You
can see it with your own eyes. A human being is a single soul with many facets
that returns to life again and again to polish itself. Would you like a chance
to look back at one of those facets?”

“Can you do that?” Arcona’s mood lifted. “Will
it help?”

Dame Bishop motioned for Arcona to follow her
into the front of the shop. “It might help to know what you’re dealing with.”

They returned to the cozy, firelit shop. Dame
Bishop walked toward the front window and tugged the velvet curtain aside. A
blaring red sunset glowed in the west. “It’s already nightfall.” She bent
forward and retrieved a Romanesque bronze dagger from the front window display
and turned with the polished blade clutched in her hand.

Arcona gazed warily at the elegant but
dangerous-looking blade pointed at her. “What are you going to do with that?”

“We are going to do some scrying, my dear.” Dame
Bishop closed the curtains and invited Arcona to sit at a small table.